A Tale of Scales
by Sarneh
Summary: This is my Elder Scrolls: Skyrim story. It follows a group of four argonians, who have traveled to Skyrim for an unknown reason. After being captured and nearly executed, their loyalties they carried over from their old home of Cyrodil begin to fray, and the group soon realizes they will have a much bigger role to play in the civil war in Skyrim than they first realized.
1. Vaex's Profile

_A Tale of Scales_: Character Profiles

Author's Note: Ermahgurd. First actual posting of my work on .  
The purpose of this collection is to lay out the main starting cast of _A Tale of Scales _before the story has actually begun. Normally I don't do this sort of thing, but I felt it was somewhat necessary, especially for a particular character. The reason I feel this way is because these characters were heavily developed as I played Oblivion, but I never put any ideas for an Oblivion story down on paper, so I only have their history stored in my head. This is also a way for me to give you an idea of the physical appearance of the characters, without interrupting any part of the actual story with a long description (something I hate having to do). I will also most likely reference a good couple events that occurred during the Oblivion time period, so some knowledge of the storyline is helpful. General knowledge of Skyrim is also going to be extremely helpful, as the looks of just about everything are going to be based from it, along with parts of the storyline.  
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this sort of a "teaser" for _A Tale of Scales! _

[I do not claim creation of the Elder Scrolls universe, or anything in it]

_**Vaex**_

A little about the creation of Vaex: Vaex was the first character I created, and is by far my favorite to write about. I feel most connected to him, and I feel like his personal story is the most developed of the four Argonians. His name originated from a Draconic word for "Bow" (The weapon, not the action. I also cannot recall the specific universe the word came from). I had originally intended for Vaex to be a sort of archer, but as I progressed his story in my head, it really just didn't fit the personality I had created for him, and I turned him into a full-on, brutal warrior.

Phsyical appearance/attributes: Vaex is six feet, seven inches tall, only slightly taller than the average argonian, and much taller than the average imperial, who is usually around five feet and ten inches. His scale coloration is a mix of black and navy blue, with slightly more blue. Vaex is completely bald, though he has a trio of small boney horns that follow each cheekbone, along with a pair of similar horns on the underside of his chin. His eyes are a bright aqua blue, and going across the left side of his face are three scars, left by the claws of a mountain lion. The scars stand out against his skin, as they are a red-pink compared to the dark blue surrounding them. The biggest feature that makes Vaex stand out from most argonians (or just about any mortal in Tamriel), is his physical strength. Vaex has easily overpowered full-grown orcs, nords, bears, and even daedra. He's known to be able to flip over horse carriages, rip doors from their hinges, break down well-grown trees, kick through stone walls, and can wield a normally-considered two-handed weapon, in one hand, allowing him to dual wield them with ease. Vaex is thirty-one years of age at the start of the story.

Background/History: Vaex was born in Blackmarsh, the argonian homeland. He lived there until he was the age of twenty-one, when he decided he wanted to travel to Cyrodil and join the Fighter's Guild. While living in Blackmarsh, Vaex became fast friends with Laerak (Who will be talked about later in his own profile). During his time in Blackmarsh, he promised himself he would train and work so that he would be stronger than any other warrior, as he wished to undo the stereotype that argonians are only sneaky, underhanded fighters who prefer to be rogues and magi. While Blackmarsh was where Vaex gained most of his strength, he also trained constantly in Cyrodil, even adopting exercise "routines" like going out and wrestling a brown bear regularly. Upon arriving in Cyrodil, Vaex was quickly taken into custody by the Imperial Legion, as he near-perfectly matched the description of a thief that had recently escaped from the Imperial prison. While in prison, he became involved with the events of the assassination of the Emperor at the hands of the Mythic Dawn. He was there as Emperor Uriel Septim was killed, and he soon after found himself fighting against the daedra of Oblivion, the Mythic Dawn, and the daedric prince, Mehrunes Dagon. During his time in Cyrodil, Vaex signed into the Arena, and won himself the title of "Grand Champion of the Arena." After the Oblivion crisis had ended, Vaex was also inducted into the Imperial Legion, and eventually rose to the rank of Captain of the Guard of the Imperial City. Like he had originally intended, Vaex did also join the Fighter's guild, and eventually became Master of the guild, however he later stepped down from the position.

Personality: Vaex has a gentle heart, caring very much for his friends, whom he usually considers more like family than just friends, and he is very protective of his love interest/significant other. However, Vaex also believes strongly in retribution and "an eye for an eye", and will not hesitate to act accordingly. He is quick to anger when provoked in particular manners, and in these times, he easily forgets his own strength. Vaex is also very proud to be an argonian, and so he will not tolerate when others talk poorly of his people, and he will defend them without a moment's thought.


	2. Sarn's Profile

_A Tale of Scales_: Character Profiles

Author's Note: Apologies to any strange formatting or some such. I'm still unfamiliar with how things work here on FanFiction. Hopefully, things 'll become neater as I use the site more and more. Also: Expect a long read for Sarn; He's a complicated fella! Apologies in advance if my more detailed descriptions are a little unclear. Some of it is hard to put into words.

_**Sarn**_

A little bit about the creation of Sarn: As you can guess, my profile name is derived from Sarn. Sarn is my second character created in the Elder Scrolls universe, and he is probably the most complex, in my opinion, for one particular reason (Which will be talked about later). Sarn is the only vampire in the group, and the first vampirical character I've ever created. I've always been intrigued by vampires, and so when thinking about the group, I knew one of them had to be one. When creating Sarn in Oblivion, he started off as an assassin, but after becoming a vampire, I decided to start using magical skills. Over time, I began relying less and less on my stealth skills, and more and more on my magical abilities. By the end of the game, I had decided being a mage fit Sarn much better than being an assassin, however, I intended to keep his time as an assassin as an important part of his personal story. When talking about the origin of Sarn's name, I can honestly say it came out of nowhere. When I first created him, I had no idea what his name would be, and as I was sitting there at the naming screen, the name Sarn just randomly hit me. I mulled it over a bit, and decided it would do. Later on, I decided that as Sarn is an ancient vampire, he should have a lesser known, but more grand name, and so his full name became Sarnyroth, though most characters will simply refer to him as Sarn.

Physical appearance/attributes: (Sarn went through a lot of changes during the events of the group's time in Cyrodil. For the sake of simplicity, this will be a description of him as he is at the start of _A Tale of _Scales, though his old appearance may be mentioned at some point)

Sarn stands at 6 feet, and 3 inches. His scale coloration is a pale gray, with tinges of black along his chest and face. Sarn has two very small lines of horns that travel from the top of his skull down to the back of his head, right above the neck. Normally, Sarn's eyes are like orbs of milk; completely white with no defined pupils or retina at all. They change often however, and the reason why will be talked about later. Sarn is not very strong when it comes to physical strength, but being a vampire has added a bit to his physical power, and so he can usually hold his own in a physical confrontation when need-be. Sarn's age is never clearly defined, though many assume that is at least a couple hundred years old.

Background/History: Sarn is an extremely complex character in that he has, in a way, lived three lives.  
His first life, as a normal, mortal argonian, which is almost never mentioned, and very little about it is known by anyone besides Sarn himself.  
His second life, as an ancient vampire, hungry for power, infamy, and magic. He constantly clashed with Laerak, along with Vaex. He was the terror of Cyrodil for an extended period of time, constantly attacking towns and cities and causing havoc wherever possible. He was the second-most wanted criminal in Cyrodil, wanted for just about every crime. It is wondered by many people why the heroic figures of Vaex and Laerak would work with Sarn, with very few buying the excuse that they shared mutual goals of stopping the Oblivion invasion. Some would even blame Sarn for said invasion, but Vaex and Laerak have put those rumors to rest, for the mostpart. After the Oblivion crisis, Sarn kept in touch with the group only lightly, preferring to keep to himself as he plotted various attacks against different factions of Cyrodil. He had very close ties to the Dark Brotherhood, as he worked as an agent of theirs for a long period of time before he became a mage. For about a span of three years after the Oblivion crisis, some would say Sarn ruled Cyrodil. Every Lord and Lady was constantly paranoid of the possibility of him coming to their city next. The Imperial Legion was powerless against him, as his magical abilities had progressed so much that he could easily wipe away half an army within a matter of seconds. The mage's guild had neither the resources nor the numbers to make any large effort to stop him.

Eventually, though, Laerak decided enough was enough. He began pursuing Sarn with the help of Vaex, and eventually, they finally confronted one another. Sarn had just finished finally "going over" as Laerak called it. He had finally let his power take control of him, and he had demolished the city of Cheydinhal. They battled for hours on end, Laerak's power being fueled by the Divine's, and Sarn's by his own dark magic. Eventually, Laerak managed to beat back Sarn's attacks, and he began what is now known in Cyrodil as "the Purging of Sarnyroth." Laerak forced out Sarn's emotions, his hunger for power, his knowledge of daedric magic, and the twisted nature that had taken control of him. For a week afterwords, Sarn was in a deep sort of sleep, and when he awoke, he was near robotic in his thought process. Never once did he show any signs of intense emotion, and only really remembering that he was allies with Vaex, Laerak, and Farrak. This would be the beginning of Sarn's third life.  
The three of them then took time to explain to Sarn who he used to be, and what he had done. Sarn, now only able to think logically, decided that he needed a way to limit his own power, since Laerak was unable to actually fully get rid of Sarn's magical abilities. The group contacted a friend of Laerak, another argonian named Gixlyr, who was skilled in the art of magicl runes. Together, Gixlyr, Laerak, and Sarn created a set of eight magical runes, which they tattooed onto Sarn's arms, so that when his palms faced upwards, so would the runes. Each symbolized a different element of Sarn's magical abilities.  
Starting with his left arm and going from the palm down, up to the elbow, are Light, Life, Water, and Wind. On the right are Darkness, Earth, Fire, and Storm. To describe the appearance of each:  
Light is symbolized as a bright white sun. Life, a small green leaf. Water, a bright blue, tear-shaped drop filled with a small spiral. Wind, three gray lines that run parallel to one-another, and spiral off at the end. Darkness, a black-purple crescent moon. Earth, a "dented", deep brown circle. Fire, a bright orange-red tear that, instead of being tipped like water, is topped by a series of "spikes" like the tongues of a flame. Lastly, Storm, a bright yellow lightning bolt.  
How these runes work, is that Sarn is able to "tap" into one element at a time and wield it to his full potential, but only that one element. Sarn's argument for this was that if he were to somehow become corrupted again, he would only be able to fight with one element of magic at a time, and so any skilled mage would be able to counter whatever element he used.  
By the start of _A Tale of Scales, _Sarn has begun to try and help rectify some of the destruction he had caused over the years. He has given away large portions of his collected wealth to help re-build Cheydinhal, and he returned all stolen items he possessed. Sarn retreated to his hidden home deep in the swamps on the border of Blackmarsh, as he knew that no matter what he did to help, he would not be forgiven for his crimes. While in his home, he trained and willed himself to no longer need to divulge into his vampiric nature, eventually reaching the point where he was no longer dependent on blood to survive and be healthy.

Personality: As stated earlier, Sarn has little to no true "personality" after the purging. He thinks solely based on logic and common sense, and shows little to no emotion on most subjects. The only relatively "emotional" subject he feels for are his loyalty to his friends and allies.


	3. Laerak's Profile

_A Tale of Scales_: Character Profiles

Author's Note: Got slammed with a lot of work these past couple days, so I haven't had much time to write for recreation. Will hopefully be able to finish the next profile soon, and then finally get to work on actual story chapters! Yay!  
Also: These next two profiles are characters that were created by my brother. They are also pretty much me putting down what my brother says as he answers questions, so the information is coming directly from him. While he doesn't have a fanfic account, I do still want to state that I'm giving him credit for Laerak and Farrak, along with Gixlyr. Thanks so much for your help and support, bro!

_**Laerak**_

A little bit about the creation of Laerak: I first really created Laerak back in Morrowwind when I was intrigued by the concept of a fighter that used both magic and physical weapons. When Oblivion came around, I created Laerak officially by using that name, and with the Knights of the Nine expansion, I was really able to create and get into detail about Laerak's life as a crusader and servant of the Divines. Laerak's name is derived from a Draconic word meaning "weapon." I feel like Laerak is a bit of projection of myself: I wanted him to be humble, and have him care deeply for life. He also is very loyal to his friends and family.

Physical appearance/attributes: Laerak stands at about six feet, two inches tall. His scale coloration does not change much from a darker orange-red, while his eye's are a bright golden hue. He has two small ridges of horns that go across the top of his head, and he lacks the usual boney "nubs" that Sarn and Vaex have. While Laerak is not anywhere close to being as strong as Vaex, he is able to easily wield a weapon and shield to fight, and can hold his own in most physical confrontations, though he also possesses some magical abilities, mainly fueled by the holy energy of the divines. Laerak is thirty years old at the start of the story.

Background/History: Laerak, along with his brother, Farrak, were not "born" in the physcial, biological sense, but were simply found in their father's home one day. They were given to Laerak's father three years apart from one another. While he never discovered any true parents to the two boys, he took them in as his own children. As Laerak grew up, he was inspired by a priest of the divines in his village in Blackmarsh. When he was older and reached the age where he was free to explore to the world on his own, he decided to head to Cyrodil to further study the divines, as there were not many argonian priests in Blackmarsh. While he was able to get into Cyrodil without much trouble, as he neared the town of Leyawiin he came across a caravan of prison carts that were transporting prisoners to the Imperial City, as Leyawiin's prison was essentially overflowing. He stopped the caravan as it was mainly filled with argonians, and he questioned the guards as to why they had arrested all of these people. As Leyawiin is very discriminatory against argonians, the guards decided to arrest him for questioning the authority of Count and Countess of the city, and threw him in with the rest of the prisoners. Upon reaching the Imperial City, he was, conveniently, thrown into the same cell as his child-hood friend, Vaex. From there, he was mixed into the series of events leading to the emperor's death, and the Oblivion invasion. Laerak emerged from this as one of the champions of Cyrodil, along with Vaex. After the Oblivion Crisis, Laerak one day discovered that an entire chapel had been massacred. This drew him even closer to the Divines, as he hoped to find justice for those that had been wrongfully murdered. Laerak became more involved with the various chapels of the Divine's, and not long after joined the Knights of the Nine, eventually rising the earn the title of "the Grand Crusader." Despite the surge of fame this position granted him, Laerak remained as humble as he could, and continued to help those that were not as well off as he. Eventually he fought with Sarn (as mentioned in the previous profile) and purged his mind of the evil and corruption that taken hold of him. After the purge, Laerak became more comfortable with working with Sarn, and the two worked together on multiple occasions afterwords, helping Sarn to work towards becoming a force of good.

Personality: As stated earlier, Laerak is very kind and caring, constantly donating some of his wealth to help those that are not as well off in life as he. He has on many occasions helped wild animals that were injured by healing them, through both magical means and physical means. He is very humble also, refusing to ever boast about his titles or make claims of power because of them. He loves his friends and family dearly, even when they may sometimes "push" him.


	4. Farrak's Profile

_A Tale of Scales_: Character Profiles

Author's Note: Wow it's been a while since I got to post anything. Took a break from working on this since the workload for the Semester got bigger and bigger as things went on. Break has finally arrived, though, and so here I am! This'll be the last profile before the actual story begins.

_**Farrak**_

A little bit about the creation of Farrak: Farrak came up a bit suddenly when playing Oblivion. I had the urge to make a Rogue-ish character, and after finding out about the Shadowscale organization, I decided to go with an Argonian. I really wasn't sure "who" I wanted him to be, when it comes to personality, right away. His personality and character really developed as I played him more and thought on how he would react to certain quests in the game, that kinda thing.

Physical appearance/attributes: Farrak stands at six feet, two inches tall. His scale coloration is mainly a red-orange with occasional dark patches that appear to be more of a violet. On his face, covering the area around his eyes and most of his snout, his scales are a teal-green, standing out from the rest of him. His eyes match the green that surrounds them, being of a similar shade. For "hair", Farrak has a single small fin that starts close to the back of his head, and travels down towards his neck. While not being able to match Laerak and Vaex in physical strength, Farrak is still relatively well-muscled, and makes up for his slight lack of strength through his agility. Farrak is twenty-seven years old at the start of the story.

Background/History: When Farrak was discovered by his father, he was "born" under the sign of the Shadow, and so he was destined to join the Shadowscale organization. He did not join the group while he was still a hatchling, as his father wished to have him with his family for a few years before leaving. He left to join them while he was still in his mid-teens. During his time training with the Shadowscales, he excelled in his classes, easily picking up on subjects and skills that would normally take much more experience to master. He was able to outperform just about any other student there, and was able to even challenge some of his instructors. The Shadowscales took note of this, and once Farrak had aged a few years more, sent him out on a private assignment which took him to Cyrodil. He was sent to survey the nation, take note of various political issues arising, and all-around "keep an eye on" the province, as they are a neighboring nation to Blackmarsh. Upon his arrival he quickly met up with the Dark Brotherhood establishment there and worked with them for some time as well. He also eventually joined up with the Thieve's Guild, however he was not as experienced in the arts of thievery as he was in assassinations. During one of his first visits, he attempted a heist to steal a rare amulet from a jewelery merchant in the Imperial City. He had underestimated the organization and numbers of the guard force, though, and found himself barely making it away from them. During his escape, he, by chance, ran into his brother, Laerak, and they were both quite surprised to see one another. Laerak helped Farrak to escape, only because he did not wish to see his brother imprisoned. After his failed heist, Farrak quickly made a name for himself in Cyrodil, easily becoming a renowned thief and assassin, even managing to steal an Elder Scroll from the White-Gold Tower.

Personality: Farrak is very sarcastic and very much the joker of the group. He loves a good laugh, and he doesn't always mind it's at another person's expense. While he can be serious at times, he is generally light-hearted, and likes to play tricks on people. It's be said that if not for how skilled he is, he would've been dead multiple times over with how cocky he can be.


	5. Chapter 1

**A Tale of Scales**

One

Vaex looked up from his desk at the sound of his door opening. He sighed and momentarily rested his head against his right hand. He hated days when he was forced to sit and do paperwork. He wanted to be out fighting, not signing papers to confirm supplies deliveries and squad re-assignments. What he hated most, though, was having to write letters to the families that lost a father, mother, or child who was a part of the Legion. Vaex tried to not think about the faces of those that would find out they would not be seeing a loved one again, but sometimes it was more difficult than he anticipated.

The Imperial at the door had, thankfully, not commented on Vaex's obvious exhaustion, and was politely standing at attention.

Vaex raised his head and straightened his posture. "At ease, soldier. What can I do for you?"

The Imperial nodded and let his arms drop to his sides. "The men posted by the main gate caught someone trying to sneak into the city. They were requesting to see you, and refused to speak to anyone until they were brought to you."

Vaex frowned slightly. His instinct told him that this was another assassination attempt. He was getting annoyed by them, at this point. He had foiled too many attempts on his life for him to remember. The argonian stood up from his seat, and managed to knock his chair over. He grumbled a swear that went unheard by the Imperial, and Vaex righted the chair before stepping away from his desk.

"Very well. I'll go and see this..." Vaex paused and motioned for the Imperial to fill him on just who he was going to see.

The Imperial nodded in understanding and began explaining as he moved to open the door out of the office and into the city.

"She's a young nord woman. Probably late twenties or early thirties, if I had to guess. Relatively disheveled looking. Her armor looks like it should have been replaced years ago, and her hair is heavily matted with sweat and filthy. She came armed with two daggers, probably steel, but never made any attempt to use them. We've confiscated them, along with the small bit of gold she had with her."

Vaex nodded as they continued down the street towards the city prison.

"Any idea where she's from?"

"Not here, sir."

Vaex turned and cocked his head in question. "Well that's not very helpful. I meant, what city is she from? Chorrol, Bravil...?"

"Neither. She's not a resident of Cyrodil, sir. Apparently she came here from Skyrim."

Vaex's eyes widened slightly. "She came all the way from her homeland to see me? I'm not sure if I should be flattered, or worried." joked Vaex.

The Imperial let himself grin slightly and chuckle. "I'm not sure, either, sir. She did make her intent very clear, though from what I can tell, she's not here to do you harm."

Vaex grunted at this. "She's welcome to try."

They finally arrived at the prison, and once again, Vaex's subordinate held the door open for his superior. Vaex nodded his thanks and made his way to the front desk. The redguard stationed there stood and saluted.

"Commander. The prisoner is in cell fourteen. Shall I take you to her?"

Vaex nodded. "Let me see this nord. I'm interested to hear what she has to say."

The redguard nodded and motioned towards the door to his left. "Right this way, sir."

Vaex opened the door for himself for once, and made his way down the dim passages of the prison. He already knew his way to the cell, as it was the one directly across from his cell when he was here as a prisoner. Vaex began to think over his life as it was, still amazed at some parts of it. He had risen to a position in the Imperial Legion that was better than he could have ever hoped for. He had also made a good name for the Argonian people, proving that they could be trusted, and were more than capable of handling positions of leadership. Vaex grinned at this, and let his chest swell slightly with pride. Of course, he couldn't take all the credit. Laerak, too, had done well, rising to be the Grand Crusader. In truth, Laerak had probably done more good for the people of Cyrodil than Vaex had.

Vaex just enjoyed hitting things.

The argonian laughed at the joke, as he had first heard it from Farrak. He had punched the younger argonian in the shoulder for it, but it did hold some truth. Vaex's life was that of a warrior. He had wanted to be one when he was younger, he had become one through his experiences in Cyrodil, and he would die one.

The redguard and imperial who were following their commander exchanged confused glances at the sudden laughter ahead of them, but they shrugged and decided not to inquire.

Vaex finally found himself in the correct cell block of the prison, and finally began to see guards positioned along cells and at the end of hallways. He stopped right before cell fourteen and shook hands with the imperial standing guard.

"Maric. Good to see you."

The imperial grinned. "And you as well, **commander.**"

Vaex returned the grin with a smile. The two of them had worked together on several occasions. Maric used to out-rank Vaex, and now they both constantly poked fun at the irony that the tables had been turned over the duration of a few weeks.

The smiles faded as Vaex motioned towards the cell. "I take it she hasn't said anything?"

Maric shook his head in answer. "Not a word. She hasn't made any move to escape, either. She did drink the water we brought her, but that was about it."

"Did you give her any food? Hunger begins to visit one before thirst usually, or so I've been told." said a voice from behind the gathered Imperial Legion soldiers.

Vaex turned with surprise at the voice. "Laerak? What in Oblivion are you doing here?" he asked with a laugh.

The two argonians embraced each other brotherly, both of them grinning after separating.

"Something told me that I should stop by the prison." answered Laerak, a bit of a seriousness slipping into his voice.

Vaex tilted his head slightly. "Some sort of message from The Nine?"

Laerak's expression became thoughtful at this, and his voice unsure. "I'm... Not quite sure, to be completely honest. All I know is that I should be here at this time."

Vaex's expression became concerned and he turned to the imperial that had come to the prison with him. "Go back up to the main lobby. Have anyone not on duty right this second be ready for anything." It was a vague command, and he knew it, but Vaex was unsure what the best wording would be at the moment. The meaning seemed clear, though, as the imperial nodded and quickly made his way back from where he came.

Vaex turned back to Maric. "Well, I came here to see her. Let us in."

Maric nodded and retrieved the key to the cell from his belt. After unlocking the cell door, he stood to the side and held it open for Laerak and Vaex.

The two argonians entered, and Vaex motioned for Maric to close the cell behind them.

Now that she was there in front of him, Vaex took stock of the nord.

She was relatively well-muscled, but still had feminine curves. Her light-brown hair traveled on slightly past her shoulders, and it was indeed quite matted with sweat, sticking to her skull like it was pasted there. She sat cross-legged on the floor with her head dropped so that her chin rested on her chest, but it was raised when Vaex and Laerak entered. The nord's eyes were a strikingly beautiful mixture of pale blue and gray. They were fixed intently on Vaex at the moment. He started slightly as he took notice of the three emerald green stripes running diagonally along her face, originally taking them for a trio of scars. Her armor did indeed look like it needed to be replaced long ago, looking very torn and ragged.

She stood up from her position on the floor and bowed slightly. "You're here."

Vaex and Laerak briefly exchanged glances of curiosity.

"Yes, we are." answered Laerak.

"I take it you know our names?" asked Vaex.

The nord nodded.

"May I ask for yours?"

Again, she nodded. "My name is Aela."

Vaex briefly considered offering to shake hands, but decided against it. "Are you here illegally?"

Without any hesitation, Aela answered "Yes."

Vaex blinked in slight surprise. "Well then, why are you here?"

Aela took a step closer to Vaex and the argonian crossed his arms protectively.

Laerak heard the sound of booted feet shifting positions behind him. He hoped that the guard outside would not do anything drastic or overreact.

A chilling breeze swept through the hall, causing the torches lining the hall to flicker.

Vaex and Aela held each others gaze, both waiting for the other to speak.

"... Well?" questioned Vaex.

"We need you. The people need you." She turned briefly to look at Laerak. "You as well. You are both needed."

Vaex and Laerak were both now staring at Aela intently. "Who? What people?"

Aela smiled sadly. "Those whom you will destroy. Those who need you, to need them. Those who need you to not be what you are."

Vaex was getting annoyed by the vague answers. "Speak clearly, woman. Who needs us? What do you mean?"

Aela shook her head. "Learn quickly. You will need to."

Before Vaex or Laerak could respond, the cell across the hall from them exploded.

Both argonians were thrown to the floor, but picked themselves up quickly. Laerak unslung his shield and mace, while Vaex gripped his longsword tightly.

What they saw left them speechless. The bronze-colored head of a dragon could be seen through the hole in the wall, eyes glowing a bright orange. The head pulled back slightly, and Vaex and Laerak both felt the temperature begin to rise. They had nowhere to go as the cell was filled with flame.

Vaex opened his mouth to yell in pain, and yet, to his surprise, while the flames began to melt his armor and burn his scales and skin, he felt nothing. A hand grasped his as Aela's voice whispered in his ear, "Welcome home."

Before Vaex could do anything else, his vision gave out, and the world went black.

* * *

"FIRE!"

Vaex threw himself to the side and cracked his head against hard wood. He rolled off his seat and landed on the floor, hitting his head once more.

"Son of a bitch! Ow..."

"Whoa now, take it easy. Don't want the guards coming back here to quiet you, do ya?" said a voice from above.

Vaex had closed his eyes in pain, and now opened them to see the face of a nord. The man's face was grimy with sweat and dirt, with bits of food and dirt in his blond beard and mustache. His eyes showed concern, but also worry.

"C'mon, get yourself up before they do anything. I'd offer you a hand, but... Ah, well..."

The nord chuckled sadly and moved his arms to show the shackles that bound his arms together.

Vaex soon realized he was in shackles also. He had some difficulty righting himself, but eventually he managed to pull himself back up into his seat. He started to take note of his surroundings. They were traveling down a rocky road in a large wooden cart. There weren't any bars, though clearly he was some kind of prisoner, as if the shackles and tattered cloth clothes weren't a big enough hint. Vaex didn't recognize the forest they were in, but then again, they all seemed the same to him.

Vaex took stock of the other individuals in the cart with him. There was the nord who had talked to him already, but there were three others. Sitting next to the nord was an imperial, not dressed much differently than Vaex. He stared intently at the ground, so Vaex was unable to get a look at the man's face. To Vaex's immediate left was...

Vaex blinked in surprise. "Farrak?"

The other argonian was slumped backwards, his head resting on the edge of the bench he sat on.

"Farrak!" Vaex nudged the other argonian as best he could.

"Mmm..." Farrak muttered. He moved a bit in his sleep, and ended up leaning enough to the right that he fell, slumping against Vaex's shoulder.

"Figures..."

Vaex, for the time being, would let him stay there. Past Farrak was the last member of the group of prisoners. Another nord, from what Vaex could tell. Unlike everyone else in the cart, he wore dark-colored, fur robes, along with well-crafted boots of the same fur. Something in Vaex's gut told him that the nord was a man of importance, but Vaex did not recognize him. The nord turned to meet Vaex's gaze for a moment before turning away, and Vaex took notice of the gag that was tied around the man's mouth.

"You alright there? Gave me a bit of a scare, to be honest."

Vaex looked back to the blonde nord across from him.

"I... I don't know. Where are we?"

The nord shrugged. "Not sure, though we can't be going anywhere good."

Vaex frowned. "Why am I a prisoner? I already went through this sort of experience once in my life, and I don't feel like going through it again." Vaex experimentally tried to break the shackles around his wrists, and almost shouted out in pain again. His muscles felt like he hadn't used them in years; The strain was brutal. He settled for leaning his head forward a bit and swearing rapidly under his breath.

"I've never known anyone who could break out of these. No offense, but I don't think you'll be any different."

Vaex grimaced as he let out a frustrated sigh. "Normally I would at least be able to strain them, but I feel like I haven't used my arms in years."

The nord chuckled. "You certainly used them when you were captured. Put up a decent fight for a while before you and your friends just blacked out."

Vaex's eyes went wide. "Wait. You were there when I was captured? Do you know where the rest of my group is? Did you see where we came from?"

The nord lifted his hands to motion for Vaex to calm down. "Whoa, relax. I only saw them drag you and your friends into the carts, not the actual fight. I only know as much as the guards have said. Apparently you broke a few noses before passing out. I'm surprised they didn't put you down, but apparently they wanted you and your friends alive, for some reason. Then again, you don't see many bands of argonians carrying high quality weapons and armor, wandering around Skyrim these days."

Vaex blinked. "Skyrim?"

The nord raised an eyebrow. "Aye. Skyrim. Where else did you think you were?"

"I was in Cyrodil... I... I remember I had to come here, but, we never arrived. We got sidetracked by..." Vaex's words drifted off as his memory came up short. "... By something I can't remember." He momentarily forgot about everyone else with him and looked around him as a daze settled over him. "Why am I here...? What did we need to be here for?"

"Hey. Stop moving around. I was comfy."

The daze broken by the sudden sound made Vaex look down at Farrak, who's head had slipped away from Vaex's shoulder. He frowned and tried to move his head back into place, but Vaex gave him a rough push with his shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Oh shut up."

"Keep it quiet back there!" said a voice from the front of the cart.

Vaex frowned, but said nothing, and turned his attention back to Farrak. "Figures that I get stuck with you. Do you remember why we're here?"

Farrak blinked as he took in their surroundings. "Where is 'here', exactly?"

"Skyrim."

Farrak stared at Vaex for a while before scanning their surroundings once more. "Funny, I don't remember getting here."

Vaex rolled his eyes.

"So it's not just me, then. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, yet."

The nord across from Vaex watched the exchange with some curiosity before saying anything again. "You were trying to cross the border, right? You walked into an Imperial ambush, like me and the rest of my squad." His expression grew sour for a moment as he turned to look at the imperial on his left. "And that thief over there."

Farrak turned to look at the nord at the mention of a thief and was, for once, surprised to see it wasn't him that someone was speaking of.

Vaex shifted his focus to the nord as well. "Squad? Are you in the military?"

The nord shifted uneasily. "You could say that. What's your name, stranger?"

Vaex frowned at the sudden subject change, but gave his name anyways. "Vaex. The idiot on my left here is Farrak."

"Hey!"

Vaex grinned slightly, but kept his focus on the nord. "Yours?"

"Ralof."

Vaex nodded. He wanted to mention that he was part of the Legion, but considering his captors were possibly part of the Empire, he decided to hold off on it. He wasn't sure how his present company would take the information.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along... Empire was nice and lazy. If it wasn't for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

All heads turned to look at the imperial prisoner. He still stared at the ground, but his expression was now angry.

The gagged nord's eyes narrowed, but he made no attempt to speak.

The imperial looked up and shifted his gaze between Vaex and Farrak. "You two. You're like me; we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

Ralof's tone grew stern. "We'll all brothers in binds now, thief."

"I'd like to point out that I actually haven't stolen anything, yet, so I don't know why I'm here." interjected Farrak.

Vaex nudged the other argonian and gave him a hard stare.

"What do you mean Stormcloaks? Who are they?", asked Vaex, attempting to move the subject away from thievery. No doubt Farrak might get enough incentive to brag about a heist of his.

Both Ralof and the imperial stared at Vaex like he had grown a second head. The gagged nord grumbled something and turned away.

"You're joking, right?" asked the imperial.

Vaex shook his head.

"We are the true sons and daughters of Skyrim! We fight to free Skyrim from the Empire's tyranny." explained Ralof, his chest swelling with pride. His expression grew sour, though, as a thought crossed his mind. "... Them and those elves... Bastards."

Vaex opened his mouth to ask what elves Ralof was talking about, but his attention was drawn to the front of the cart.

The dim shapes of a town could be seen in the distance, and voices were heard over the clattering and clunking of the cart going over the stone road.

The imperial seemed too distracted to notice, and was staring intently at the gagged Nord. "Who's this poor bastard?"

Ralof sneered and clearly wanted to strike the imperial. "Watch yourself! That's Ulfric Stormcloak you're talking about! The true High King of Skyrim."

Vaex took this all in. This Ulfric was obviously the leader of the Stormcloaks, and if the Stormcloaks were the enemy of the Empire... The argonian suddenly had a gut feeling that they were most certainly not going anywhere good.

"Ulfric? Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion! If they've captured you... Oh Gods, where are they taking us?" the imperial looked around nervously and began talking to himself.

Ralof shook his head sadly. "I don't know, but Sovngarde awaits."

Vaex recognized the name as the location where all honorable nords supposedly go to in the afterlife, but knew little else about it.

"This can't be happening..." muttered the imperial.

Farrak leaned back in his seat and frowned. "Well, clearly it is. So do us a favor and shut up."

Ralof gave Farrak an exasperated look before turning back to the imperial. "What village are you from, horse thief?"

The imperial's expression grew angry. "Why do you care?"

Ralof smiled sadly. "A man's last thoughts should be of home."

The imperial's expression softened, and he looked down at the ground. "Rorikstead... I'm from Rorikstead. My parents and I came here years ago..."

Ralof nodded. He turned to look at Vaex and was about to ask the same question, but he was interrupted at the sound of voices again, along with what sounded like gates being opened.

Everyone in the cart looked ahead to see the walls and main gate of a town. Imperial soldiers patrolled the walls, and one of them was talking to the driver of the carriage at the gates. Vaex and the others were three carts behind the front of the caravan.

A man approached the front cart on horseback, and Vaex instantly picked him out as a high-ranking officer. His armor was much different from the other Imperial soldiers Vaex had seen, though the argonian did not recognize the man.

"General Tulius, the headsman is ready!" shouted the driver of the front cart.

"Good, let's get this over with."

Vaex's eyes narrowed. _Headsman?_ That was one of the last things he wanted to hear. The argonian leaned to the side carefully and whispered into Farrak's ear. "I'll sort things out with them when we get there. Shouldn't be too difficult to get them to let you go, also."

Farrak grinned and leaned back in his seat. Sometimes it was nice to be friends with an Imperial officer.

The imperial next to Ralof was now praying rapidly, hands against his forehead. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines... Please help me."

Vaex was sure that if Laerak was here, the man would probably be begging him to forgive his sins, or some such. Vaex shook his head. While he respected those who took faith to heart, it had never been a large concern of his.

The caravan began to move once more, and as they passed through the gates, Vaex heard Ralof spit over the side of the cart, and saw Ulfric's eyes narrow once again, this time more intensely than the last. Vaex followed his gaze and spotted the man named Tulius conversing with a group of High Elves. Vaex frowned. He had never been very trusting of the elves. He never admitted it because he usually ended up working with them, but he was never able to feel safe with one of them. They generally treated anyone that wasn't an elf like dirt, but there was something else...

The argonian's train of thought was interrupted as Ralof spoke. "Look at him. General Tulius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

Vaex's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight. One of the elves looked in his direction, and he swore that they met his gaze. It unsettled the argonian, and he looked away and started to observe the town they had entered.

"What city is this, Ralof?"

"Helgen..." Ralof smiled sadly and leaned back in his seat. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here... I wonder if her ma still makes that fine brew with juniper berries..."

Vaex smiled slightly. He was beginning to like Ralof. If he could, he would try and get the Imperials to let him go as well. Maybe he could convince the man to give up on being a rebel soldier; might help his chances of being freed.

The carts ahead began to separate and pull into individual areas along another wall within the city. As Vaex looked around, he did indeed see the chopping block, headsman standing next to it, axe ready and clean.

_ Not for long, though. _Thought Vaex. He grimaced. He never liked executions like this. Vaex believed that if one was to condemn another to death, that they should be the one to do the deed. It was rare in Cyrodil when he sentenced someone to death, but when he did, he refused to let another do so. He took it as his own responsibility.

"Funny... When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." Ralof said wistfully.

Their cart finally began to pull into place, and the imperial next to Ralof stood, eyes wide as he heard a woman's voice shout out.

"Get these prisoners out of the carts! Move it!"

"Why are we stopping?" sputtered the imperial.

Ralof shook his head and stood. "Why do you think. End of the line." He looked towards Vaex and gave the argonian a sad stare. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting."

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" shouted the imperial.

Ralof rolled his eyes and pushed the other man towards the exit ramp of the cart. "Face your death with some courage, thief."

While Ulfric had remained silent for their arrival, he now grunted in what seemed to be agreement with Ralof.

Vaex followed behind Ulfric, with Farrak being the last one off the cart.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" shouted the imperial ahead of them.

The group made two lines at the back of the cart, with Ulfric, the imperial, and Ralof in front, while Farrak and Vaex stood behind them. They were lined up in front of two individuals, an older woman, maybe late thirties, who was decorated in high-ranking Imperial armor, and a younger man, maybe around Vaex's age, who was dressed as a common soldier. The man held a notebook and quill, inkwell hanging from his belt. The woman held her hands on her hips and stared intently at the assembled group in front of her.

Vaex took an opportunity to look around once again when the two imperials pulled away from the group to converse for a few moments. He was relieved to see Laerak and Sarn in another group, a few carts down. Vaex would have waved his hand, but instead settled on shouting out.

"Laerak! Sarn!"

Both of the other argonians looked up at their names being called. Laerak smiled broadly while Sarn bowed his head in slight acknowledgment.

"Prisoner! Be quiet and stay in line!" commanded the voice of the woman.

Vaex turned away from his friends and met gazes with the imperial. She sneered at him while Vaex gave her a hard stare.

She shook her head angrily and turned to the man with the notebook and quill after giving another command to the group. "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time."

Vaex heard Ralof sigh.

"Empire loves their damn lists."

Vaex frowned at this. He couldn't recall any time when the Empire had held a mass execution...

The man with the quill looked down at his book and began reading off names.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The large nord stepped forward, cast a hateful glance at both imperials in front of him, then turned and headed towards the block to join the semicircle of prisoners forming around it.

Ralof bowed his head in respect. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric."

"Ralof of Riverwood."

Ralof cast a final glance at Vaex, nodded his head, and made his way towards the block.

Vaex returned the nod. _I'll get you out of this if I can. _He thought silently.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

The imperial stepped forward, his body trembling slightly. The man stood silent for a while, his body seeming to twitch in various areas.

Vaex stared at the man's back intently. _He's going to try and escape._

Finally, Lokir spoke. "I... I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

As the soldier with quill began to respond, Lokir sprinted past him, catching both imperial soldiers by surprise.

"Halt!"

Lokir stumbled slightly, but continued to run. "You're not gonna kill me!" he screamed wildly.

The armored imperial officer raised her hand. "Archers!"

Lokir kept running.

Farrak shook his head, and Vaex could hear him mutter, "Idiot..." under his breath.

The officer lowered her hand swiftly, and a barrage of arrows flew towards Lokir. Two struck him in the back, one in the thigh, and another at the base of the skull.

His body hit the dirt road hard. A few imperials moved to drag it off, while the officer turned back towards Vaex and Farrak. "Anyone **else **feel like running?"

The man with the quill looked up at the two argonian's, confusion evident on his face as his glance shifted between the two men in front of him, and the book he held.

"Wait a moment... You there, step forward."

Vaex did as he was told. Before he could speak, the man interrupted.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Vaex, and I am the Captain of the Guard of the Imperial City. I realize this is far from there, so perhaps you haven't heard of me, but I assure you that I speak the truth."

Both imperials stared at Vaex like he was the biggest idiot on Tamriel. A few other soldiers behind them that had heard Vaex began to snicker and laugh quietly, making jests at the argonian.

Vaex frowned and began to respond to the insults, but was again interrupted by the man in front of him.

"There is no record of you here, nor have I heard of you- Wait."

Vaex's hopes were raised at this. The man must have missed his name the first time he went through the list.

"... The last record of a 'Vaex' in the Empire was a soldier who served during the time of the Oblivion Crisis."

Vaex nodded at this. "That would be me. Though, I assure you I was a much higher rank than it lists there..."

Both imperials exchanged glances. The woman rolled her eyes and shook her head, while the man sighed sadly.

"... His death is recorded here, about forty-five years ago. He is also not listed as an argonian. There is no way you are the same man as he."

Vaex stared disbelievingly at both of them. "What? **Forty five** years ago? The Invasion only ended but two years ago! It's still fresh in my memory! I fought alongside Martin!"

Both imperials exchanged glances once more, frustration evident on the woman's face.

"Great. We get to deal with a lunatic. Always enjoyable..." muttered the woman.

Vaex was incredulous and took a step towards the woman angrily. "A lunatic? I out-rank you! Bring me my things! I'll prove it to you! I always carry my insignia with me."

The woman looked towards the man with the quill and shrugged. "Fetch his bags, Hadvar. Let's see if there's any truth to be found within **them**."

Hadvar nodded and handed his book and quill off to another soldier. A few moments later, he returned with a brown cloth sack, and within it could be heard the sounds of armor clanging against itself. He had another solider pull up a small table, and he placed the sack atop it. He motioned for Vaex to go through it, to which Vaex gladly complied to do.

After a bit of searching which was made difficult by the fact that the Imperials had not removed his shackles, he retrieved the now-dirty insignia of the Captain of the Guard of the Imperial City. He presented it to Hadvar with a bit of pride. "I believe **that** should settle this.."

Hadvar looked it over a few times before handing it over to the woman at his side. She too looked it over, then threw it into the sack with Vaex's armor before handing the bundle off to a solder behind her.

"Bah. They haven't made one like that in years. The lizard probably took it off some old armor he came across or bought it from some sleazy merchant. Those things are only worth a few gold nowadays, anyways. Get his name down, even if it is fake, and then send him to the block."

Vaex pushed aside the table at this, drawing a few surprised shouts from the soldiers nearby and made his way towards the woman in front of him.

"Now you wait just a damn minute! I-"

The sounds of weapons being drawn, and the feeling of cold steel against his back made Vaex freeze mid-sentence. He mentally slapped himself for not being more attentive of his surroundings.

"Get back in line prisoner, or I gut you where you stand." said a voice from behind Vaex.

Vaex slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder, and behind him stood General Tulius. The man's face was expressionless, but Vaex could see the intensity in his eyes. He wasn't bluffing.

Vaex cast one last hateful glance at the officer, then made his way towards the semi-circle. Behind him, he heard Hadvar say, "I'm sorry. We'll be sure to have your remains sent home to Blackmarsh."

_Home... _Vaex heard the word echo a few times in his mind.

Farrak watched the whole exchange with wide eyes. Since when did the Empire become so ignorant? _I wonder if this means they became bigger idiots. Perhaps it'll be easier to rob them dry... _thought Farrak with a grin.

"You there! You next."

Farrak sighed and stepped forward. He gave them his usual fake name, and began to make his way to the block, but a shimmer on the officer's leg caught his attention. His eyes narrowed as he made out the shape of a key sticking out past the top of the officer's boot.

As he turned to start moving to the block, Farrak twisted his leg and fell, landing on his side and next to the woman, throwing up a small cloud of dirt and dust with a quick swish of his tail. In the blink of an eye, Farrak snatched the key and quickly it pushed it between his wrist and his shackles, curling his fingers into a fist to cover the portion that still stuck out visibly.

The argonian muttered a few apologies as the officer physically hauled him to his feet and pushed him towards the block.

Vaex turned to look as Farrak made his way to his side.

The argonian thief flashed his friend a toothy grin.

Vaex stared for a moment, then shrugged. On Vaex's other side were Laerak and Sarn.

"I take it you didn't have any luck either, hm?" Vaex asked Laerak.

He shook his head. "No. They said that they had heard that the Grand Crusader had left on a sort of pilgrimage and never returned. He's considered dead. Sarn gave them a fake name, as I doubt his bounty has gone away."

Vaex grimaced. "This doesn't make any sense. What's going on, Laerak? I feel like time went by without us."

Laerak stared off in thought. "I'm afraid I don't know, my friend. I spoke with Sarn on our way here, and even he can't get an idea of what happened. He suspects magic may be at work, but he cannot sense any that is out of place right now."

"Better than not having a clue at all, I suppose."

Laerak nodded.

All prisoners had finally joined the semi-circle, and now Ulfric stood ahead of them all, face to face with General Tulius.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to **murder **the High King and usurp his throne."

Vaex's eyes went wide. _Murder the High King? Why in the name of Talos would he... And what is The Voice? _He turned to ask Laerak if he recognized the term, but Tulius continued.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to **put you down, **and restore the peace."

Laerak let his head drop slightly and sighed sadly. "Peace should never have to be achieved like this..."

Vaex stayed silent, though he watched the events unfolding intently. He wanted to know more about what was going on, but he doubted he would be leaving this town alive. His tail swung back and forth in frustration.

What was heard echoing through the air would not be a sound any man or woman of Helgen would forget. What sounded like a roar pierced the air, and everyone cast their gaze upwards.

"What was that...?" Asked a soldier, breaking the silence.

General Tulius's expression grew sterner, but otherwise went unchanged. "It's nothing. Carry on."

Vaex and Laerak exchanged nervous glances.

"I don't suppose you recognized that sound, did you?" asked Laerak.

Vaex shook his head. "No. It's nothing I've ever heard before."

They both shifted focus back to the executions about to commence as they head the imperial woman's voice. "Yes, General Tulius." A priest in bright golden robes was standing by the block. "Give them their last rites."

The priest nodded and brought her hands up into the air. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessing of the eight divines upon you,"

Laerak's head shot up from his own prayers at this. "**What? Eight?**" he whispered. He stared at the priest with wide eyes, and mouth slightly agape.

"... For you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved..."

"Oh for the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with." said a Stormcloak soldier, stepping out of the semi-circle and making his way towards the block.

The priest's mouth hung open for a second, as she was clearly unprepared for the interruption. She stepped away from the block, visibly flustered, and frowned. "As you wish."

The imperial officer from earlier stood behind the nord as he lowered himself onto the block. She placed a foot on the man's back to hold him in place, and nodded towards the headsman.

The burly man hefted his axe onto his shoulder and readied himself.

"C'mon then! I haven't got all morning!" shouted the nord. The man's head now rested on the cold stone in front of him, and he closed his eyes, the barest of smiles tinging his face. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

Laerak lowered his head once more in silent prayer, and Vaex mentally saluted the soldier for his bravery.

The axe fell hard and swiftly. It was a clean cut, and the head and body separated easily. Blood spurted out of the man's neck, covering both the stone and the ground around it.

"You Imperial bastards!" shouted a nord woman's voice from somewhere else in the circle.

"Justice!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

"Rebel scum!"

Vaex looked in utter disbelief at the Imperial soldiers, who stood there, cheering on the executioner and taunting the Stormcloaks. This was not the Empire he had joined, that he had given his blood and sweat to. When executions were carried out in the Imperial City, they were done privately and somberly. No man ever behaved as the Imperial soldiers did this day.

Ralof, who was a few men down from Vaex's right, smiled sadly. "As fearless in death, as he was in life."

Vaex nodded, even though he did not know the man as Ralof did. As he turned his attention back to the block, he noticed the Imperial officer's eyes on him.

She grinned wickedly and pointed towards Vaex. "You, lizard. You're next."

Vaex's fists clenched tightly in anger at the insult, and he wanted nothing more right then than to introduce her face with his fist. He made no attempts to do so, though, as it would most likely end in a more painful and slower death than the executioner's axe would give him. And so, with a final nod of thanks to each of his friends, and then Ralof, Vaex made his way over to the block. Before he could lower himself down, though, another roar rang out through the air, this time sounding slightly closer.

"There it is again..." said Hadvar's voice.

"I told you, it's nothing. Carry on." said the voice of General Tulius.

Vaex felt the Imperial officer's hand on his shoulder, and she pushed him down onto the block. Vaex grimaced at the fact that he'd have to rest on top of the blood of the nord that went before him. He lowered his head onto the block, and stared off into the sky behind the executioner. As he closed his eyes and waited, he began to think of the afterlife. He hoped that Laerak was right about the divines. Perhaps the two of them would be able to meet at a tavern in the heavens. Vaex smiled at the thought.

The headsman raised his axe, and Laerak shut his eyes tightly, not wishing to see his friend slaughtered like an animal. Sarn bowed his head in silent mourning. Farrak growled and clenched a fist in frustration.

Like the roar, no one in Helgen would forget the sight of a massive, black, winged reptile swooping down from the sky, and landing on the top of the watchtower closest to the chopping block.

The ground shook with the beast's impact, and the headsman lost his balanced and fell, his axe falling to the side.

Vaex's eyes shot open at this, and he stared disbelievingly at the creature, along with just about everyone else there.

Finally, a nord woman's voice cut through the air. "**Dragon!**"

The dragon opened it's mouth, and did not roar. Vaex did not hear it roar. It **spoke. **Vaex did not know what it said, but he just knew that it uttered words, not a guttural roar. And right before it spoke, the dragon stared right at Vaex, then into the crowd of prisoners.

The sky became a twisted shade of blood red, and dark clouds swirled above Helgen at the sound of the dragon's voice. As the Imperials finally got reign of their senses and drew weapons to attack, the dragon spoke once again, and a wave of pure force slammed against the crowd.

Vaex was thrown a few feet from the block, and he blacked out while the dragon's voice pounded in his ears.

* * *

Authors Note: Wow! First chapter finally done after so long. Hope you enjoyed it!

Please let me know what you thought of it, especially when it comes to the perspective. That has been my biggest concern overall. Any other feedback is appreciated, but please keep things constructive.

Also: Yes, I realize that some details about the original dialogue, characters, and so forth have been altered. I changed what I did for various reasons, the most obvious being the addition of the extra dialogue with Ralof, which I added because I felt that **just **the base dialogue would be nowhere near enough to set things up.

I don't really expect anyone to get upset over the smaller things like changing Lokir's race, but I figured I should say something anyways.

I'm afraid I have no idea when chapter 2 will be done and posted, but I'll have it up as soon as I can!


End file.
